


Cold Tonic

by skiesinlove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, Magic, Witches, real brief enemies to friends to lovers, this is slow-burn me trying to do a fic under 5k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 08:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiesinlove/pseuds/skiesinlove
Summary: “That depends,” they say, setting the bottle back down on its shelf. “Are you the owner of this place?”“I am,” Kuroo replies, eyes narrowing. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”“Akaashi Keiji,” the stranger says. It’s void of emotion, but there’s a sour note to it, and Kuroo is starting to get the impression that this person has less-than-friendly intentions.





	Cold Tonic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [klari19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klari19/gifts).



> This is my creation for [kuroosthighz](http://kuroosthighz.tumblr.com/) for the Haikyuu Secret Santa Exchange 2017. The request included Fantasy, Kuroaka, and Friends-to-Lovers. Hopefully I satisfied! Happy holidays everyone!

Being a witch has a lot of advantages, and not necessarily ones you might think of. Of course, there’s obvious things: the ability to cure sickness, heal wounds, and conjure food and drink out of thin air. 

The others, though, the more “mundane” things that magic can do are the things that Kuroo cherishes the most when it comes to being a witch. For example, he’s been on his feet all day at the apothecary he owns and must therefore tend with great aptitude. Once the afternoon rush ended, he’d made himself some herbal tea to soothe the tension in his back, legs, and feet, but when he’d wandered back to check the register, he’d left it all the way across the counter.

Now, a non-magic person would have to endure those two or three grueling steps to retrieve it—the absolute last thing Kuroo wants to do after a long day of work. However, all he has to do is twirl his finger through the air in loose circles, and he’s able to stir the spoon in the cup all the way from across the counter. 

It is this, more than anything, that he loves about being able to use magic: he can minimize his energy consumption on menial tasks (Kenma calls this convenience “laziness” but hey, potato-potahto).  

After a minute, he flicks his wrist to chuck the spoon into the sink behind him and pulls the cup toward him with a curling dance of his fingers. Then, partly because he really is lazy as sin and partly because he’s bored, he makes a scooping motion with his cupped hand and vaults a bulb of the warm liquid into his mouth.

He purses his lips. Too bitter. He mutters a spell under his breath and trickles sugar from his fingertip into the tea.

“I feel like it would be much easier for you to just pick up the cup to drink it, instead of going through all that nonsense,” a low, unfamiliar voice chides.

Kuroo glances up from his tea to see a stranger standing at the front of his shop. They wear a black, tunic-length t-shirt, flowy and loose and hanging from one of their dark, freckled shoulders. Their grey pants are made from a material that looks like an unholy hybrid of denim and leather, skin-tight and tucked into a pair of oversized black boots. Their wrists, ears, and fingers glitter with silver and gold circlets—the telling jewelry of someone who casted with spirits. Coupled with a bright turquoise-colored crystal hanging from their neck, there is an air of powerful magic about them.

“Perhaps,” he grins, straightening up and defaulting into his customer-service voice. “But it’s less fun that way, don’t you think?”

The stranger shrugs, heels clicking on the wooden floor of the store with an unnaturally loud echo. Instead of giving him an answer, they opt for meandering around his shop, perusing his wares with a level of detachment.

Kuroo’s apothecary is fairly large, lined with rows upon rows of shelves, tables, and displays. Each surface is cluttered (systematically, of course) with all sorts of magical items; from skin lotion salves to every ingredient one might need to make a transfiguration potion. With its high vaulted ceilings and plethora of windows for natural light, Kuroo built the place to be as interesting and inviting as possible. 

It isn’t strange, then, for someone to do the whole look-but-not-really-look kind of thing here.  _ The Black Cat _ is the best known apothecary for miles, after all, and magical types from every walk of life will often stop by just to window shop. Or, more awkwardly, to get a look at The Cat himself.

This person doesn’t really seem to be doing either of those things. The stranger flits from one shelf to another, not lingering on any one thing for very long, not making their way toward any particular section. They’re looking, but it’s almost as if they’re stalling or waiting for something.

Kuroo is more than patient enough to wait for whatever that something is. Unfortunately, one of his biggest flaws is that he is also insufferably curious.

“Can I help you find something?” Kuroo offers, leaning on his elbows over the counter.

The stranger looks up from the vial of oily black shoe-shine with the same unreadable expression. 

“That depends,” they say, setting the bottle back down on its shelf. “Are you the owner of this place?”

“I am,” Kuroo replies, eyes narrowing. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Akaashi Keiji,” the stranger says. It’s void of emotion, but there’s a sour note to it, and Kuroo is starting to get the impression that this person has less-than-friendly intentions. 

They walk up to the counter, each stride purposeful and fierce. He wouldn’t be surprised to see sparks flying out from the aggressive click of their heel against his wood floors, or to see shadows trailing from their black talon nails, curved like claws at their sides. 

Kuroo holds his ground, straightening up and matching their stony gaze. He can’t help but notice that their eyes—a dark, seafoam green to match the gleaming crystal around their neck—are absolutely stunning. If they hadn’t been emanating the very distinct air that they were out for blood, he might have even asked them for a drink. 

When they reach the counter, they stand with their hands on their hips, looking at Kuroo like they’re putting a silent curse upon him and his entire lineage. 

“Well then, maybe you would be able to explain to me why one of your potions turned my roommate into an owl,” the stranger says, looking Kuroo right in the eye.

Kuroo raises his brows in surprise. That is...not what he had been expecting. And also an understandable reason to be pissed to hell and back, which they clearly are. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to be intimidated by this person. Even if he is, indeed, a little intimidated, and also a little turned on.

“What kind of potion was it?” Kuroo asks as unaffectedly as possible. “I do sell transfiguration potions, you know.”

That makes the stranger fold their own arms across their chest, matching Kuroo’s raised brows. He can see their jaw jumping like they’re literally biting back a retort.

“It was  _ supposed _ to be a cold tonic,” they say. Their voice is still calm but it’s laced with so much ice Kuroo can feel it piercing his skin, penetrating deep into his blood. 

While Kuroo wants to laugh at the very idea that a cold tonic could have accidentally turned someone into an owl of all things, he composes himself. This Akaashi is obviously not playing him for a fool, and Kuroo isn’t calloused. If something were to happen with something he sold, he’d want to right that wrong. Though how something like that might happen is a complete mystery.

“Alright, alright,” Kuroo concedes, throwing his hands up. “Who bought it and when? I don’t actually make all of the potions here and I need to know if it’s one of my apprentice’s.” 

“Or one of yours,” the stranger counters harshly.

Kuroo bites back an extremely rude retort, opting instead to smile sickeningly at them. “Yes. Or one of mine.”

Kuroo knows for a fact that it isn’t one of his. Not only has he not made a simple cold tonic for the apothecary in some time, but there’s also no way in hell he’d manage to fuck one up so bad as to turn someone into an owl. 

“Well, my roommate is the one who bought it. About two days ago, I think.”

“Alright. Well, let’s go take a look and I’ll see what I can do.”

Kuroo nods and heads to the side of the shop titled  _ health tonics/herbs/elixirs _ , gesturing for Akaashi to follow him. They do so, still glaring irately at Kuroo. He doesn’t feel the distinctive tingling of cursed magic though, so it doesn’t seem like they’re actively seeking to do him harm. Not yet, anyway.

When they reach the cold tonics, Kuroo can tell immediately that something isn’t quite right. Something about the consistency seems off. It’s far too viscous, with little chunks of something that looks like egg white suspended in the fluid. It’s also a dull, murky green when it should be a light, almost translucent blue. 

“Yeah that’s...not what that should look like,” Kuroo says with a frown. His stomach twists painfully and he feels red-hot embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

Kuroo prides himself on the status of his goods. While there are bound to be mistakes with magic, as with anything in the world, overall he tries to ensure that everything he sells is of the best quality. This sort of mishap is unacceptable.

Akaashi snorts but doesn’t say anything to further Kuroo’s humiliation and frustration, thank goodness. 

Kuroo straightens up, running his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. 

“Well, I’ll obviously give you a refund—or your roommate. Whoever.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi says. It sounds mostly genuine. 

“Of course,” Kuroo nods. “Do you need an antidote or anything?”

“No, no, I’ve already taken care of it,” Akaashi waves the offer away with a shrug.

Their nonchalance about the matter makes Kuroo’s stomach flip over. 

“You have?” Kuroo asks in spite of himself.

“Yes,” Akaashi says almost nonchalantly. “I mean, it did take some time thanks to the...nature of your blunder but he’s fine now.”

Kuroo would be offended if he wasn’t so honestly impressed. Transfigurations are not his strong suit anyway, but even if they were he knows from just the look of the botched tonic that whatever had happened to the poor fellow who drank it would be very difficult to undo indeed. 

So, standing before Kuroo is someone who managed to undo an unknown transfiguration mishap, who also casts in spirits (a brand of magic that has an extremely high mortality rate due to its drain on one’s mind, body, and energy), whose very aura tingles with something powerful and eerie.

Good lord. This person could have easily come into his shop, hexed him to hell and back, and been on their merry way.

That’s...kinda hot? They’re kinda hot? What with their black curls, their freckles, their spirit-casting tattoos, the glitter of their rings, bangles, and piercings, they’re a witch’s wet dream.

Was that an appropriate thing to think about someone coming into his shop to file a complaint?

He clears his throat and points to the register to avoid saying something he’ll regret. “Right. Your change?”

Akaashi nods and follows him back to the register. As he counts out their return, they drum their fingers on the counter and gaze about the shop. The almost vengeful anger that had crackled in the air around them is completely gone now. There’s a sense of curiosity in their eyes, lingering on some of the shelves, free hand brushing through the loose curls of their hair.

They’re  _ very _ cute, and casually powerful, and Kuroo wonders briefly it would be rude or weird for him to ask to take them out for a drink.

Unfortunately, Kuroo is a coward, and when Kuroo passes their money over the counter with a smile and says, “That should do it. Sorry for all the trouble. I’ll make sure to sort whatever happened there out.”

“Make sure you do,” Akaashi says, and if Kuroo doesn’t know better, there is something almost playful about their wave as they click back out of his store.

The faint smell of gardenia and jasmine lingers in the air behind them. Kuroo thinks briefly that it would make the ideal scent for a love potion.

***

It’s over two weeks later when Akaashi wanders back into  _ The Black Cat _ again. They weren’t planning on coming back, honestly, but they have a little bone to pick with the shopkeep.

“It’s a crush, Keiji! A crush!” Koutarou had assured them after their third frantic anti-hex scrub-down. “Just ask him out or something and stop moping around the apartment—and stop using all of my orange peel!”

But Koutarou was, of course, wrong, because that witchy devil of a man had absolutely put some sort of enchantment on them. Just because they can’t figure out which spell out of the thousands of infatuation-born incantations they know does not mean Koutarou is right. Just because they feel relatively clear-headed otherwise, and have anti-hexed themselves enough that they probably have an entirely new skin by now, does not mean Koutarou is right. 

Because they can’t get that ridiculous mischievous grin of his out of their head, and their heart does something uncomfortably fluttery when they think about the goofy, showy confidence with which he’d charmed his tea. There is also the casually tousled hair, the soft, dark eyes, the nimble twitch of his fingers…

Gah! It must be an enchantment, Keiji is sure of it. They would never, in their right mind, fall for someone like him.

He was careless to let those potions out on the shelves, and even more careless to sell them to someone. He could have caused some serious harm to Kou, and that is not the sort of short-sightedness Keiji cares to trifle with. 

Even so, despite his arrogance Keiji was surprised to see such a blatant disregard for the quality of his goods. Kuroo Tetsurou was well-known in the region as friendly, albeit cocky and sarcastic, but more than anything he was a talented and powerful witch who had more than earned his status. People would travel from far outside the region to get their hands on potions, elixirs, and other magic items from  _ The Black Cat _ . Keiji knew some of those goods were created by apprentices, but, well, people didn’t create a name for themselves in the magic community without earning it. Imposters, cheapskates, and frauds were usually found out and ousted quickly. 

Plus, Koutarou had made some mistakes in his life, and sometimes bought things that were frivolous or useless, but he was usually extremely careful when it came to the magic he bought—especially that which he consumed. One of the reasons they’d moved to this city was, in fact, to be closer to  _ The Black Cat _ .

So it is this collection of baffling circumstances and Keiji’s incessant desire to Know and Understand that leads them back to the apothecary that afternoon. It just doesn’t make sense that someone with Kuroo’s reputation would sell such a poor elixir and then put some sort of enchantment on Keiji. 

And it is not, despite Kou’s teasing, a crush. 

They arrive late in the afternoon, when traffic to the shop is low and they will likely be able to talk to Kuroo with some sort of privacy. They’re relieved to find that it’s nearly empty, apart from Kuroo himself and a small, blonde witch talking to him that Keiji assumes to be his apprentice. 

“—still think he’s back there, Kuroo-san?” the witch says uncertainly, playing with the end of her side-ponytail.

“It’s likely, considering what your last three batches of tonics have looked like,” Kuroo sighs. He seems as calm as their first encounter, arms folded and leaning lazily against the counter, but there’s something in his voice that sounds strained. 

“R—right. I’m so sorry about that Kuroo-san…” the witch stutters, going beet-red in the face.

“Sorry? What for?” Kuroo snorts sardonically. 

When the witch’s lower lip begins to tremble, though, Kuroo’s demeanor shifts into something Keiji had not been prepared for. His shoulders slack, and the grin he’s wearing slides down into a much more favorable smile. He softens, and something about what that does to his eyes and his voice makes Keiji’s entire body grow hot.

“Yacchan, you don’t need to apologize. You have more than proven that you can make things I’m proud to put on my shelves. Whatever’s happening back there isn’t your fault, and I know that.”

Kuroo pats the witch on shoulder and jerks his chin toward the back of the shop. “Go fetch my books and see if we can’t find a banishing spell back there, eh?”

“Right! Of course, Kuroo-san, I’m on it!” the witch says, much more lively now as she scampers away out of sight.

The grin returns to Kuroo’s lips and he shakes his head. He turns to the rows of shelves behind the counter—the ones holding expensive and valuable goods—and begins fidgeting with his wares.

“Fancy seeing you here again,” he says without turning around. “My apologies for the wait.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Keiji says, making their way up to the counter. “Your apprentice seems...frazzled to say the very least.”

Kuroo chuckles and Keiji feels the heat in their chest flare, along with their irritation. Now that they’re here, in Kuroo’s presence, the enchantment he’s put on them is searing. His hair and his eyes and his voice, the way his sleeveless tunic drapes over his lean body, the twist of black ink around his biceps marking his magic, send Keiji’s pulse through the roof. Whatever spell he’s put on them flusters them, disorients them, makes them hyper-aware of their own body in relation to his.

Whatever spell this is, it’s powerful and intoxicating and as much as it infuriates Keiji that someone would have the nerve to do this to them, they don’t hate the feeling it gives them.

They can’t decide whether they want to curse this man or kiss him. 

“Ah yes, that’s Yachi,” Kuroo says over his shoulder, laughter still blushing his cheeks. “She’s very talented but a little skittish, the poor thing.”

Kuroo turns around fully now, and Keiji very much so wishes he hadn’t. He’s wearing a stunning pentacle with stones set into each point of the star, and with him facing them they can’t avoid his dark, twinkling eyes or his devilish smile. 

It’s contagious, and they have to force down a smile of their own by folding their arms and biting the inside of their cheek. 

“So, what brings you back to my shop? Come to tell me another of my tonics has curdled?” Kuroo says. It’s playful, not accusatory, and coupled with that smirk Keiji has to bite down even harder on their cheek before answering.

“More curiosity than anything,” Akaashi says with a tilt of their head. “Have more of your potions gone bad? That can’t be good for your reputation.”

It’s meant to be a dig, an attempt to shake off the magic fluttering in their chest, but Kuroo doesn’t bite. He just arches a brow and leans casually on the counter. 

“That it wouldn’t,” he agrees simply. His eyes are trained on Keiji’s face, flicking over their features with interest. They can’t decide whether they like it or not. 

“What sort of curiosity?” Kuroo asks. 

“Oh you know, mostly about how someone with your reputation managed to sell such an abhorrent concoction without noticing. Plus, my roommate swore the tonic looked normal when he bought it, which was even more perplexing.”

Kuroo has the nerve to take that stab and laugh  _ again _ , like this is some kind of joke and Keiji is playing a game. What’s worse is that his spell makes the corner of Keiji’s own mouth twitch upward, and even worse than that is that talking to Kuroo feels so nice and genuine they’re starting to really wonder if it’s even a spell at all. 

“That would inspire some curiosity, yes,” Kuroo chortles. “Although I feel as though the resolution might not be what you’re expecting.”

“Oh?” Keiji asks, still fighting their own mouth into a line.

“Yes indeed. It’s—well. Can I tell you a secret?” Kuroo asks, lowering his voice and leaning in towards Keiji. There’s the mischief in his eyes again, excitement like a child about to share some sort of playground gossip. He gestures for Keiji to lean in too, and dammit they do it without hesitation. He’s magnetic.

“Alright so it’s—okay. You can’t tell anyone, alright? Not something I want spreading out into the world, you know,” Kuroo says urgently, still grinning, and Keiji nods in interest. “I  _ believe _ , Akaashi-san, that there’s a trickster spirit living in one of my shelves.”

“Do you now?” Keiji says, allowing themselves to be pulled into his little game despite their better judgment. “What makes you think such a thing?”

“Well, for one I went back to test the tonic your roommate took that turned him into an owl and found—get this—I found that they’re actually completely normal, effective cold tonics that have curdled,” Kuroo says, bouncing cutely on the balls of his feet. “Isn’t that just so interesting? I’ve never seen a cold tonic of all things curdle like that! Especially since they were made only a few days before. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Keiji raises their brows. “Actually, yes, I have.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen a little in interest. He straightens, placing his hands on his hips with a smirk. “Have you now? Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

“I’m a spirit caster, so yes,” Keiji says, ignoring his second remark. “Tell me more. Maybe I can help.”

“Would you really?” Kuroo asks brightly.

“Of course,” Keiji says with a dismissive wave. “It’s what I do.”

At this, it’s like Kuroo is suddenly radiating light. His eyes glow, cheeks dimpling with the breadth of his smile, drawing himself up to his full height and drumming his fingers on his crossed arm. It’s this, at the genuine look of warmth and excitement in his eyes, that finally begrudgingly convinces Keiji that Koutarou is probably right. 

If working with spirits has taught Keiji anything, it’s how to assess someone’s character. Discovering motivations, emotions, and truth are key to casting magic when it comes to spirits. 

So if Kuroo were manipulating them, they would be able to tell by now. Far from deceit, the things Keiji senses from his soul are mischief and sarcasm, obviously, but also a good, genuine heart.

And if they aren’t mistaken, a reciprocation of interest in whatever chemistry is happening between them.

“Well, alright then, if you’d like to cast at my shelves I have no qualms with that whatsoever,” Kuroo says, and his smile finally spreads into Keiji’s own lips. “How much would you like for it?”

“Nothing,” Keiji says. Kuroo opens his mouth, probably to protest, but before he can say anything Keiji grins and says, “but perhaps you’d be interested in grabbing a drink with me this evening?”

Kuroo blinks. He arches a brow, and surprise curls the corner of his mouth. For a moment, he seems hesitant, and Keiji wonders if they’ve misread him after all, before he lets out a loud, wheezing, breathless laugh: one that comes from deep in his diaphragm and rings throughout the store. It makes Keiji laugh quietly too, relishing the way Kuroo’s eyes close and crinkle and how he throws his head back without inhibition.

“I’m so sorry,” he wheezes, and Keiji wants to scold him for apologizing about that fantastic laugh. “But I just...I was not expecting that.”

“I don’t believe that’s an answer,” Keiji says impishly, still smiling.

Kuroo snorts and shakes his head, the wild tendrils of his hair going in about a hundred different directions. “Yes. Of course, yes, I would love to go out to drinks with you.”

“Excellent,” Keiji says with a clap, satisfaction and relief swelling inside them. “Now, show me this pesky spirit of yours. I’ll see what sorts of lessons I can teach it.”

***

“It took me nearly four different incantations to finally get everything sorted,” Keiji chuckles, sipping on a delightful spiked apple cider. 

“Damn. Well, I’m just glad you were able to get him back to normal,” Kuroo says, running his index finger around the rim of his gin and tonic. “I am truly sorry about that.”

“It’s quite alright,” Keiji assures him gently. “But perhaps in the future you should do some regular cleansings of your store.”

Kuroo’s mouth slides into the grin that slants his features into perfection, an arrangement that makes Keiji’s pulse thud painfully in their chest. He rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, gazing at Keiji like...like something...well. With that look it’s surprising that Kuroo can’t actually hear the hammering of their heart.

“I wonder if there’s a certain enchanting witch I could employ for such an endeavor,” he says in a voice that’s almost a purr. “If they’d be interested.”

Keiji tries to hide the blood flooding their cheeks behind a smile. “They might.”

Kuroo’s grin widens and he downs the rest of his drink in one gulp. He waves the bartender down for another, leaving Keiji alone for a moment with their thoughts.

The bar Kuroo chose for the evening is exactly Keiji’s fare: buzzing with activity, but low-key, not deafening but humming with intimate conversation. The lighting is dim, throwing the charming, simple decor into a semi-blueish hue. It’s a cocktail lounge Keiji has been meaning to try for a while, and when it was Kuroo’s first choice it seemed almost like fate.

Keiji still isn’t sure whether or not they believe in fate, what with the powers that people and magic have on the universe and its circumstances. It seems a bit too coincidental, though, that Keiji would happen to march irately into a store only to be greeted with a spirit to banish and a beautiful man to take them to drinks. 

Kuroo really is beautiful, too. It’s been quite some time since Keiji’s been actively interested in someone, what with moving to a new city and trying to find work. 

When Kuroo turns back to them, he tilts his head to the side and that wicked brow of his arches into his hairline. “What is it?”

Keiji would have been embarrassed by how they’ve been staring at him, but they aren’t. The evening is wonderful, they’re filled with good omens and good liquor, and Kuroo is looking at them with the same wonder they feel when they look at him.

“Oh nothing,” Keiji hums. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah? What about?” Kuroo asks. His sharp, expressive lips seem to always be moving, always telling the tiniest shift in his emotions and thoughts.

“About...how I was wondering if it would be rude to kiss you right now,” Keiji confesses.

Kuroo smiles. God, Keiji could drown in that smile. They could drown in a lot of Kuroo, but they’re finding that when his mouth relaxes from its perma-grin into something a little more demure, their breath nearly leaves them.

“I would be okay with that,” Kuroo says lowly, leaning in toward them.

There isn’t enough room nor privacy at the bar for them to share a real, good first kiss, but it’s satisfactory. It’s a simple meeting of lips, just enough to smell the tang of Kuroo’s cedar-and-orange cologne, to appreciate the way his mouth feels against theirs. Just enough to suddenly saturate Keiji’s veins with something hot, something they haven’t felt in so long.

A new spark. A new want.

Keiji breaks first. They try to sit up, but their head is buzzing with more than just their drink. Kuroo too looks rosy-faced, his eyes a little glazed over.

“I’m very happy you invited me out tonight, you know,” Kuroo says quietly, still leaning heavily in Keiji’s direction across the bar. “You’re...fascinating. And beautiful.”

Keiji’s face ignites and they have to hide a choked noise in another sip of their drink. “I’m...happy too,” they mumble into their glass. 

Kuroo must sense their discomfort because he doesn’t push anymore. He doesn’t seem deterred either, and simply continues their lively conversation. He asks Keiji about their work and their travels, about Koutarou, about their life, their interests. Keiji parrots back his questions in kind, sprinkling in their own inquiries about his magic and his shop.

They talk and talk, and they drink, and Kuroo kisses them more than once—chaste and quick but it’s still so, so good.

Whether it was fate or luck that brought them into that store, Keiji can’t help but marvel in how the light glows on the arches of Kuroo’s cheekbones, highlighting the ungainly fronds of his hair. They can’t help, won’t bother to help, how looking at him and talking to him makes them think that even if there is no enchantment placed upon them, there is magic in how he has managed to bewitch them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


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